Going Down: A House of Erotica Collection
By T.G. Haynes, Erin Pim, Cash Morgan and
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About this ebook
Paradise Past - T.G. Haynes
Amelia arrives at a wonderfully intriguing, isolated, island locale. The hotel, where she has a reservation, has a history of hosting wild parties and dangerous liaisons in its art deco heyday. Her reservation has been arranged for her by a mysterious male guest…
Next, please! - Erin Pim
Rumour has it, that staff at the hotel sneak away to use empty rooms for their sexual exploits. In light of this, Deanna, a bi-curious hotel receptionist, begins to see her lesbian co-worker in a different light. Will she muster up the courage to make the slim, blonde Jenny her first lesbian partner? The old hotel’s empty rooms beckon her, imploring her to give in to her desires.
The Mobster’s Wife - Cash Morgan
A one night stand has unexpected consequences for private eye, Cash Morgan. He's inadvertently slept with the wife of Jamie Burton, a mobster on the run from the law. The police now recruit Cash to act as bait, his job is to keep sleeping with Burton's wife, Erica, to lure her jealous husband out of hiding. The question is, who will kill Cash first: Jamie Burton with a bullet, or the insatiable Erica by more pleasant means?
Winding Down at Watergate - Jordan Monroe
A year ago, Alicia spent a pleasurable weekend with Daniel. Since then, the confidence she had in her appearance has waned, and Alicia has devoted herself to the new high-powered job she holds. When the two meet up again by chance at a scandalized hotel, will Alicia be able to overcome her body-image issues and pick up where they left off?
Seventy-Seven Seconds - Janelle Reston
Amber and Lucy have been on-again, off-again ever since graduate school. Now living on opposite sides of the country, academic conferences are their only opportunity to rekindle the old flame. For the two women, the conferences are as carnal as they are intellectual. When Amber dares Lucy to have sex with her in their hotel's glass elevator, their relationship reaches new erotic heights.
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Going Down - T.G. Haynes
happening.
Paradise Past
T.G. Haynes
Amelia arrives at a wonderfully intriguing, isolated, island locale. The hotel, where she has a reservation, has a history of hosting wild parties and dangerous liaisons in its art deco heyday. Her reservation has been arranged for her by a mysterious male guest.
Finding the situation intriguing and thrilling in equal measure, Amelia dresses for dinner in style. Upon arriving in the restaurant, finally she meets her mysterious male companion.
Their conversation sparkles with sexual frisson and in no time at all he tempts her with a number of risque suggestions. Initially, Amelia plays it rather cool, but gradually she gives in to temptation an decides to indulge her host. The pair leave the restaurant and make their way to a secluded spot on the island where Amelia’s host tries to persuade her to make love.
Amelia hadn’t really believed that it was an island until she pulled up in the car park at Brantham bay and looked out to sea. Less than half a mile away lay Borough Island. Though the distance was short, it was an important half a mile. Amelia sat and watched for a few minutes as the incoming tide inexorably covered the strip of sand that connected the island to the coast and, subsequently, cut it off from the mainland. As she got out of the car a strange oversized tractor with enormous wheels set off from the island towards the shore. The cage like contraption it was pulling hardly looked glamorous. Realising she had no other choice - unless she wanted to swim - Amelia opened the boot of the car and took out her bag. She locked the vehicle, then made her way down to the shoreline. She was so glad she had decided against wearing the outfit that he had requested. She would change after checking in.
The driver of the vehicle greeted her cheerfully and helped her aboard. After stowing her luggage away he clambered back onto the driver’s seat, swung the tractor around and set off for the island. Amelia’s heart began to beat a touch faster. As the waves lapped at the huge tractor wheels she gazed back at the mainland. Only then did she realise that there was no turning back. Naturally her thoughts turned to the man she had arranged to meet. She wondered if he was already waiting for her?
The hotel was the only building of note on the island. Upon arriving, Amelia was pleasantly surprised to find that the hotel was everything that the guidebook boasted and more. Having been built in the early days of the twentieth century the venue had really come into its own during the art deco era. It was rumoured that Noel Coward’s set used to throw wild debauched parties there and for a short time the island gained a reputation for being something of a retreat for those who were tired of the restrictive moral shackles of the day. Understandably, the present owners of the hotel did nothing to quash the rumours.
To her surprise, Amelia found the staff dressed in outfits from the hotel’s hey-day, but whether this was due to some special event she wasn’t aware of or whether it was simply standard dress code, she couldn’t be sure.
Neither could she be sure if a faint smile played across the lips of the receptionist as she checked in. Trying her best to control her nerves Amelia cleared her throat and, as casually as she could muster, asked, ‘Has my partner arrived yet?’
She winced at her choice of words. Partner? Where had that come from?
‘Let me see.’ The reception ran his right forefinger down the old fashioned register.
‘Yes,’ he declared. ‘The gentleman in question arrived some time ago. Would you like me to inform him of your arrival?’
‘No!’ Amelia exclaimed.
Her response caused the receptionist to raise his eyebrows.
‘Sorry,’ Amelia apologised. ‘I didn’t mean to be rude.’
‘Apology accepted. Now, may I help you with your luggage?’
‘No, thank you,’ she said.
The receptionist bowed. ‘As you wish, madam.’
Turning away from the desk Amelia paused as she debated whether to take the lavish stairway or the gated lift up to her room. The stairway won. It proved an excellent choice for it allowed her to admire the magnificent period pieces that adorned the walls. Whether they were originals or reproductions it barely mattered, the paintings were utterly exquisite. Focussing on the paintings momentarily helped to take her mind off the gentleman who was waiting for her, but the closer she drew to the room her thoughts turned to him once more.
In no time at all Amelia found herself standing outside the door of the Paradise Suite. She checked her pulse rate. Slightly too fast. She tried taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to bring it down. It was to no avail. Realising that she was stalling she raised her left hand and knocked, rather timidly. She waited a few seconds. When no one answered she tried again. Her relief was palpable when there was still no reply. Slipping the key into the lock she tentatively opened the door and peered inside. Her eyes widened and she flung the door wide open. The room’s magnificence took her breath away.
As she crossed the threshold it felt like stepping into the past. Once again Amelia found herself unable to decide whether the décor was period or had been lovingly recreated. Reverentially she closed the door behind her and leant back against it. Gazing around her weekend abode she found it difficult to decide which piece of furniture was her favourite: the crystal chandelier? the chaise longue? the huge king size bed with gold and black satin sheets? the large oval mirror that hung on the far wall? the wooden dresser that was only slightly smaller than the first car she had ever bought? or the Bauhaus dinner table and chairs?
In the end she decided her favourite wasn’t actually a piece of furniture, it was the window that ran virtually the length of the far wall, the view from which was breathtaking. She stood and gazed out over the tranquil blue ocean. It was the kind of view you longed to pack up and take home with you.
It was several minutes before Amelia managed to tear herself away from the window. Retreating to the bathroom she grabbed a quick shower then changed into her outfit. She felt slightly guilty as she slipped on her newly purchased black bra, panties, suspenders and stockings. None of them felt particularly nineteen twenties. Her Chiffon Satin Silk dress, however, was a completely different matter, having been lovingly recreated it reeked of the Jazz era. The spectacular metallic silver and black embellishments at the neck more than made up for her twenty first century underwear.
A tingle of excitement thrilled down Amelia’s spine as she pulled on the final item of her outfit - a pair of elbow length velvet gloves. The material felt smooth and sinful against her skin. Slipping on her diamante heels, she was just about to head downstairs when she noticed a jewellery box lying on the dresser. Picking up the note that lay on top she read: ‘I’d be honoured if you’d wear the enclosed this evening. F x x x’
Amelia opened the case. An exquisite sterling silver black onyx and marcasite